Rock That Body
by lostsword
Summary: As Gaz deals with the depression of living completely alone, she finds solace in the arms of the one person who is just like her. ZAGR. WARNING: Drug use, alcoholism, and sexual content inside.
1. Chapter 1

_ Rock that body._

_ Come on, come on._

_ Rock that body._

It all had started with the drugs, she mused.

Zimmerman Nikolai Seareovich had never known his true parents, he had been—for all intents and purposes—bred in a lab. In a nation so set on global domination that no amount of morals would stand in the way, Zim and a legion of others had been drafted into the military from a young age.

After a short but crippling life of being a child soldier in the wars of a foreign country, he had been kidnapped by separatists fleeing the country and brought to Europe. Following a prolonged—and half-successful—rehabilitation effort, he had been placed in the orphanage system, but when that had failed to produce results, he had then ultimately been sent to America.

A collection of orphanages after orphanages had seen the young boy cross both oceans and land masses before finally coming to a brief halt in the city of Membrane, named after its famed resident scientist. The couple that had taken Zim in had tried to raise the boy as their own, however it had failed spectacularly.

The couple, from the get-go, had been openly gay and this had clashed insanely with Zim's culture and background. The ideological rift between them had only caused the rest of their relationship to falter and shatter. Different life views, ages, and personalities had pushed tolerance out the window and brought damnation to the good will of a pair of unprepared guardians.

The abuse of life was simply too much to be corrected it seemed.

Zim's first and last foster parents simply vanished into the night. There was no paper work, there was no court date; there was simply an empty house and a emotionless inhabitant. The screaming and physical destruction that had followed had seen more than one cruiser from the local police force called in. Rather than go through the hell of orphanages and adoption again, Zim had simply requested—and won—the right to live by himself in his "family's home."

The boy so known for his rage, his insanity, and his offsetting yellowish-green skin had quickly done as most do when faced with endless insanity. He had sought an outlet of some sort in which he could escape the pain. A way to forget and ignore the glaring holes in his life for as long as he liked.

He had searched for days.

And he had found it.

It came in many sizes, colors, and mixtures; though his favorite was vodka by all accounts. The alcohol had been easy to obtain and the funds needed had been easy to acquire due to the various charities supporting both parent-less children and young adult start-ups. However, due to the funds he was receiving, Zim had been forced to attend school.

Through school, he found even more routes to escape.

Drugs had followed soon after; the ever varying assortment of substances had quickly dug even deeper into him than the alcohol had. Shortly after that addiction began came cigarettes,which were not as heavily hit upon as cigars, but both were still heavily present in both his life and his home.

Finally the ultimate addiction had rang out and been captured in his addicted claws.

Sex.

The lost little boy had become a renowned sexual prowler. Countless women throughout the school soon found his skin to be a turn-on and not long after that Zim was regarded as a monster of the night that could rival any upperclassman. However, he only ever focused on one woman at a time and he had never joined the parties that he was invited to.

He preferred to remain alone it seemed. Why? She didn't really know, nor terribly did she really care. But she didn't really need to know, nor did she really need to care.

She just really needed the one thing he could provide.

Revenge.


	2. Chapter 2

_Let me see your body rock!_

_ Shake-in it from bottom to top._

_ Freak to what the DJ drop._

"Come again?" He said softly from his seated position under the branches of the large oak tree in the lunch area of the school. The addict was sipping from a Starbucks container—though she knew there wasn't any caffeine inside—while a pack of smokes with a zippo lighter resting on top sat on his thigh.

"I want you." She repeated softly as she looked anywhere but his eyes. Her face was red and her arms were crossed, but even with her baggy clothes and fierce persona, she could not be mistaken for an undeniably attractive female.

Zim had come to America some time ago, and he had come to realize that there were _many_ cultural differences from his homeland. Some were bad, some were good; he just chose what he found to be the best and ignored those that did not interest him. He had—for the most part—come to accept and even enjoy these differences.

But this was _truly_ different.

"Y-you...want me?" It didn't make sense; from anyone else he would have understood—possibly even gave in—but not right now. Not from the woman before him. Not knowing who she was.

This was _her_.

"Yes."

Zim eyed the girl before him once again and sniffed slightly—his nose was just the faintest of reds and his eyes were barely starting to show—as he contemplated what she was asking of him. It made no sense and he could tell from her stance that she was trying to force herself into a situation that had nothing to do with her desires—if she even had those—and this ultimately left him curious as to her motives.

"Why?"

Her breathing froze and her eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to demand an explanation then. That just proved his hypothesis that this was for something other than her bodily desires and his well known talent and skills.

"Why Gaz?" He said again, determined to find the answer to his question, even if he had to say someone's name aloud without an all but necessary insulting modifier.

Her eyes snapped to his at the mention of her name, the name that _no one_ uttered, much less the very person _known_ for never saying _anyone's_ name.

She ended up deciding that the truth was really the only way to go.

"Dib..."

"Dib?" Now he was really confused.

"Dib."

That was it all started, she mused.


	3. Chapter 3

_ We be the ones to make it hot._

_ Electric shot, energy like a billion watts._

_ Galactic call me Mr. Spock._

He was gasping as he ran his hands over her body, their fronts all but molded into one another. Her own hands were in his hair, trying to figure out the natural fixation she had with his head. Their mouths were locked in a heated battle for dominance as their tongues fought like a pack of wild dogs over the first scrap of meat in days.

She grunted pleasurably and he lifted her up onto a desk in the storage closet and proceeded to move his mouth from hers to her neck, where he quickly began to suck and bite all the way down and then all the way back up. Her eyes flew open in half-aware pleasure at the sensation while her own hands slid down his chest and began to fiddle with his pants.

They were halfway undressed within the first minute and by the time he had fully explored her neck and shoulders they had removed any articles of clothing that would inhibit them from any of the more reckless positions.

"Do it. Now."

Zim froze.

_"Do it! Do it now!"_ _The Irken sergeant screamed as the small group of children lay in a straight line in the snow, their light machine guns pointed down-range. Across the field, painted in white, lay their targets._

_ "Do it. Now!"_

_ Gun fire exploded in static bursts as the white painted bodies were covered in red._

"Zim?" Gaz demanded, breathless, as she looked at the frozen face inches from her own.

"Get dressed." Zim said simply as he turned away from her—still fully erect—and began to gather his clothes and smooth out his hair.

W-what?

"_Why_?" Gaz said, her voice shaking as she glared at the back of the man she had looked to in her dark hour. She had needed him damn it!

"Why what?" Zim demanded, his eyes looking haunted, but she didn't care.

"_Why will no one love me?!_" She demanded as her walls shattered into dust and the flood waters came. Her still all but naked form slid from the table to the floor as she sobbed; her eyes flickering from the nearly redressed Zim, to the clothes that covered her innocence, and then ultimately to the floor.

Zim had never been an emotional person; not once in the past seventeen years. He had never cared for anyone, only his drugs and the escape they offered. Yet for some reason he found himself cradling an all but stark naked Gazelene Membrane in an effort to comfort her.

That was the first time he had ever held her.


End file.
